


Till Death Do Us Part

by Thighkyuu



Category: X-Men
Genre: and that's what this is about, i wrote this after a death in my family due to cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighkyuu/pseuds/Thighkyuu
Summary: Reader is sick with a deadly illness





	Till Death Do Us Part

He loved you.

  
You were his entire world, his galaxy, his universe. Your eyes were star and your body itself was the manifestation of perfection from your looks to your soul. He would never understand how he had come to deserve you. You were everything.

When he met you, you were as vibrant and radiant as the sun and as soft and gentle as a flower. You laughed lightly and loved deeply and he knew the moment he saw you that you would be all that mattered to him. And you were.

He remembered your first date, when the two of you had gone to the movies and ended up in a holding cell, giggling like children. It wasn’t your fault you’d vandalized the car. He smiled, remembering the look on your face as your anger at stubbing your toe manifested in the destruction of a nearby car. It had been glorious.

He remembered your first year anniversary, and the way it had landed on Scott’s birthday and how he’d ended up covered in cake during a food fight. He distinctly remembered you smiling as you threw more cake at his face.

He remembered your first fight, the day you slammed the door to your room in his face and the screaming became forced silence. He remembered apologizing more times than he could count, remembered how you’d cried when the two of you had made up.

He remembered your first time having sex; sloppy, clumsy, beautiful sex to a Pink Floyd song. He remembered holding you after, gazing into your eyes and knowing you were the one.

He remembered asking you to marry him, how your face lit up and how you’d smiled brighter than the sun. He remembered you kissing him and screaming yes and the joy of planning the wedding. He remembered being crushed when it never happened.

He remembered the day you came back to the mansion from the doctor after being sick looking like death. He remembered his stomach dropping and you crying on his shoulder. He remembered holding back tears as you told him the diagnosis. He remembered that neither of you slept that night. He remembered the denial, the desperate longing for the treatments to work, for Hank to find a cure if they didn’t. He remembered begging Xavier to do something,  _anything._

He remembered watching you as you slowly wasted away, you skin paling, your smile fading, your body decaying, all before his very eyes. He remembered watching as the treatments took your hair, your life force, the essence of your spirit. He watched as they drained your energy and poisoned your body. He remembered having to help you around after each treatment.

He remembered sleepless nights and shedding tears and awkward silences and the imminent threat looming above your head. He remembered the day you collapsed and had to be hospitalized. He remembered the doctors telling him there was nothing they could do, and he remembered screaming at them to find something, because he loved you, and he’d be damned if he lost you to this.

He remembered holding your hand and staring into your tired eyes. He remembered you smiling and telling him you loved him. He remembered how thin you were, how corpse-like. He remembered your friends sprawled across the room that fateful day. He remembered the kind words, the thinly veiled sadness. He remembered sobbing when you’d told him you were ready, because this wasn’t life. He remembered your last words.

  
“I love you, Peter.”

  
He remembered your eyes closing and your breathing stopping and screaming because he couldn’t let you go.  _Please, don’t leave, I love you._  It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. Why were you dead? You didn’t deserve it. You were kind and radiant and perfect and you didn’t deserve to die.

He remembered being pried from your lifeless corpse, unable to see through his tears. He remembered the funeral. He remembered talking for a long time about you, but not what he said. He remembered the encryption on your grave, and how you’d told the Professor to engrave it with his last name instead of your own. He remembered sobbing, remembered cursing the cancer that took you from him. He remembered being mad for a long time.

  
You were his world, and you’d been ripped away from him too soon. He loved you still, even as he stood in front of your headstone, his hands shaking. He missed you.

  
_Y/N, if you can hear me, I love you. I still love you._


End file.
